Speak Up
by Handwritten
Summary: Imagine a boy, who had forgotten how to speak. Picture the girl who makes him wish he had the courage to, for once in his life, raise his voice. Rated T for later fluff. Roxas/Naminé.
1. Speak Up

_What do you do when you can't be heard?_

_**Speak Up.**_

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Secrets' from the Fruits Basket soundtrack._

_

* * *

_

"He hasn't spoken in over a year."

"Really? He was that shaken up by it?"

"The doctor said he went into shock; supposedly he's 'forgotten' how to speak. Though I don't know if that's just his father making excuses for him."

That was the first time I heard of the boy next door. We had just moved into a new neighbourhood - I was eleven, at the time - and the lady across the street had come to welcome us. I assumed she was the gossip of the place, since she managed to get _that _into the conversation after a matter of minutes.

I was organizing the cutlery into it's sections, pretending to ignore them, while my ears strained to pick up every word.

"Why, that's terrible! Yet he goes to school?"

"Of course. Not much else for a young boy to do these days." I resisted rolling my eyes.

"Is this your daughter?" Their attention was focused on me, and I stiffened.

I turned, smiling politely at the woman. "Yes. Naminé. She's just turned eleven."

"What a pretty girl." The woman murmured. "She looks just like you."

My mother turned the conversation back to the boy. "How is his family?"

"If by family, you mean his father, he can be…hard to get a long with. Irritable at times. But who knows? Maybe it would be good for the boy to play with someone his own age."

"Perhaps we'll go over there later, and introduce ourselves." My mother said offhandedly, though I knew that on the inside, she was dying to know more about this boy and his family.

Once the woman had left, my mother began searching through a large brown paper bag. "You know, we really won't be eating this entire pie. How about we go meet the neighbours, and invite them over for dessert?" Her expression was so believable, even _I _might be convinced that she had just thought such an idea up.

"Sure." I shrugged as if I didn't care.

But I couldn't help but be drawn to the little brown house next door.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**This is a side-story...my fanfic _Naminé _is first priority update-wise. Not many chapters in this one, I'm guessing.

Chapters will vary in length. I know people get annoyed by my short chapters, but honestly, once I get to the 1000 word+ updates, it takes a LOT for me to be constantly motivated to even write. So please don't review asking me to make the chapters longer - either you get short chapters, speedy updates, or long chapters, snail-paced updates. You can't have your cake and eat it too! (Though I'd much rather _eat _my cake than just _have_ it)

_Thanks for reading._


	2. Blend In

_What do you do when no one cares?_

_**Blend In.**_

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Secrets' from the Fruits Basket soundtrack._

_

* * *

_

"Stop dragging your feet, Naminé. It's good to know your neighbours."

"You just want to see what they look like."

My mother flushed with indignation, fixing my blonde hair with a swish of her fingers. "That's not true."

I turned away so she wouldn't see how I rolled my eyes. I knew my mother more than anyone in the entire world. I could tell by how her eyes were bright, and her lips pursed that she was curious about this neighbour of ours.

"Here we are." I heard her say. Her steps faltered once before she pulled me up the front walk. The house was smaller than the rest of the ones on the block, and its grass was rather unkept in comparison. But the paint on the outside of the house was fresh, and the front steps were swept clean.

My mom rang the doorbell once, and knocked after a few moments of silence. Finally the door opened, and the boy who opened it was honestly the cutest one I'd ever seen. _He reminds me of a puppy._ His hair was an electric blond, and it flew up in all different directions. His eyes were big and blue, and they stared at us curiously. He was slouched, but he must have been at least as tall as I.

My mother kneeled slightly. "Hello there." She said slowly, and I resisted rolling my eyes again. "Is your father at home?" She pointed slowly at the hallway behind the boy, smiling.

The boy nodded, and as he turned (to get his father, I presumed), I leaned to whisper in my mom's ear.

"Mom - she said he couldn't speak. I'm sure he _hears _you just fine."

"Hush, Naminé."

I shrugged just as an older man came to the door. His hair was greying, and he had tired lines etched across his face. He looked nothing like the small boy who had been there moments earlier.

"Can I help you?" He said, not unkindly. His eyes lingered on me, and I gave a small smile. He looked nice, even though he didn't smile.

"Hello." My mom finally let go of my hand to reach over and shake his. "We just moved into the neighbourhood…thought we would introduce ourselves. We're in the blue house next door."

As the two adults talked, my eyes strayed to the boy, who was leaning against the wall behind his dad. He regarded me bluntly, and I stared back in return.

"Would you two like to come in? We were just having some juice."

"Oh, only if we're not interrupting anything." My mom said jovially, already edging forward.

The house smelled like orange and lavender. My footsteps were silent on the carpet. All the window's blinds were shut, and it was hard to see much in the dim light. The kitchen was small and tidy, with two large glasses of juice sitting on the table. The small boy grabbed his juice and backed away from the table before taking a sip.

"This is Roxas; he's a very quiet boy. He doesn't talk much." His father smiled warmly down on him, patting his hair. My mom nodded in return.

"Well, maybe while we talk…Roxas - why don't you show your friend the back garden?" His father suggested.

I looked at my mom pleadingly out of the corner of my eye, but she jumped at the chance. "That's a wonderful idea. Go on, Naminé. I won't be long."

As we walked away, I heard her say: "She's been cooped up in her room since we've gotten here. It'll be good for her to get outside."

I merely sighed.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**EEEEEEK. Roxas is just too adorable. And Naminé is so sarcastic XD (for some reason, it feels like I'm basing her off of myself at times... :S)


	3. Friendship

_What is it called when you learn to care for another?_

_**Friendship.**_

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Secrets' from the Fruits Basket soundtrack._

_

* * *

_

Roxas walked ahead, down the hallway. We turned through a small room, which had a washing machine and dryer stacked against the wall to the right. The pane of the lone window was covered in dust. On the left, there were dozens of framed photographs – reaching all the way to the ceiling. I barely had time to glance at them before Roxas had opened a screen door, similar to our own, into the backyard.

Like the front lawn, it was obvious the backyard hadn't been cut in a while. Weeds were abundant. The bushes in desperate need of a trimming. The trees were overgrown, and there were tangles of long grass. We stood in complete silence, Roxas turning slightly red as I surveyed the unkept yard.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked. Roxas didn't answer me, but stared at the ground. "How many years?" I asked again, turning to face him.

He held up five fingers, and I nodded. It was a weird feeling - almost like talking to myself. But a nice change, I suppose, since most boys my age were...well, insufferable.

I rocked back and forth on my heels. "Do you have any friends?"

He blinked, then shrugged in a way that said that he didn't. Then he looked up at me, his wide eyes that were such a darker blue than my own.

"We can be friends, I guess." I said. "I don't really mind if you're quiet."

Roxas opened his mouth, and as if he just realized I was watching, he quickly shut it.

I pretended not to notice.

But when he nodded, kicking at a small rock laying in front of us, I grinned in a way I hadn't in a long time.

* * *

"So what did you and Roxas do?" My mother asked as we walked back home twenty minutes later. Roxas and I had sat in silence for most of the time, but it was nice to spend some time with someone my own age...for once.

"Nothing." I hesitated. "I-I talked to him for a bit, then we watched the tadpoles in his pond for the rest of the time."

She blinked. "Well, his father is very nice. Was Roxas nice?"

I nodded. "Yep. We're friends now." I wanted her to ask what it was like to hang out with a boy who didn't speak, but she merely smiled distantly.

"That's nice, Naminé."

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**I'm trying not to make this story completely about Nam's relationship with Roxas. I want to get some mother/daughter issues in there too, for a change of pace.  
(I know it's been a while since I updated - I told you it was a side-story!)

You know when you're little, and you meet another kid, play together for about ten minutes, and suddenly you're great friends? :)


	4. Loneliness

_What is that feeling when it seems you're without love?_

**_Loneliness._**

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Secrets' from the Fruits Basket soundtrack._

* * *

"So, did you find out why Roxas can't talk?" My mom asked later, as we were eating dinner that night.

The leaves in the salad drooped pitifully, and I swallowed a tiny bite. "You didn't ask his dad yourself?" I was mildly surprised - I figured that would be the one thing my mother would have been _sure_ to find out from Roxas' father, as we were occupied in the back garden.

"Of course not, Naminé. That would be very rude." _He must have avoided the question._

I shrugged. "I didn't ask either." _Even if I did..._

There was a painfully long silence as we continued eating. I pushed the potatoes around on my plate a bit more, only eating half of the portion on my plate. My stomach was cramping with anxiety, as it had for the last few days, and food left me unsettled and unable to sleep.

My mother sighed as she cleared our plates. "You need to eat more, Naminé. You're too skinny."

I shrugged, glancing at her plate, which still had plenty of food left over. _I guess I learn from the best._

* * *

"So I spoke to Roxas' father."

Those were the words I was greeted with when I woke up the next morning. My mother was standing in the doorway, her expression thoughtful. She glanced wearily at the boxed I had yet to unpack, and the mess covering my small desk. The clothes on the floor. My empty closet.

"You did? When?" I asked, sitting up. My mother had been trying to meet up with Roxas and his dad – but whenever she took me over to their house, no one seemed to be home.

"Oh...I ran into him on the way to get the mail." She answered carefully, and I mentally groaned. The poor man. Ambushed by my mother on the way to the mailbox.

"Anyway, I was wondering about what school Roxas went to. So you could have a friend there." She didn't wait for my answer. "There's a small middle school near here – apparently the bus stops right on the next street over."

"Sounds good." I said finally. There wasn't much point in arguing.

With a quick nod, my mother left, shutting the door behind her.

I merely dove back under the covers, and listened to my heart pound.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

An update added for the sake up updating! :) I'm actually kinda getting back into this story, now. Especially when I re-read what I had planned for the FINAL chapter ^-^ (I got super excited! I think you'll all like it, if we ever get that far, haha!)


End file.
